


The Winchester Shelter for Strays and Wayward Angels

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Cas and Dean get dogs, Cats, Complete, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester is Castiel's Home, Dogs, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fix-It, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Horseback Riding, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Post-Canon, Puppies, Puppy Love, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sam Winchester is Not Amused, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, So Many Dogs, lots of dogs, possums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: In which Dean and Castiel get their happy ending, plus a ton of dogs.This is a story about the love between Dean Winchester and his angel Castiel, as well as the dogs, cats, possums, and horses they share their life with. Together, they start a shelter and build a home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 70
Kudos: 132





	1. Puppies

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I love dogs and I love Destiel. So here you go.

The first dog had been Dean’s idea. He gladly surrendered the sliver of his bed that wasn’t already taken up by a long-limbed bed hog of an angel to the mutt. He’d even bought it treats, and a higher-end kibble.

The second dog was not Dean’s idea, per se. In fact, it had rather been Castiel’s, who had come to them in the dead of winter, shivering, at around 2 am in the morning, holding the small animal to his chest like it had personally saved him, blessed him, and restored him to full power.

(For the record, that had been Jack, who had, after some contemplation, decided to meddle in the story just one last time.)

Dean’s heart had overflowed with relief and joy and other emotions, primary amongst which had been the immediate and burning need to kiss Castiel, which he proceeded to do.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel had greeted, grinning like he hadn’t just been thoroughly kissed. The dog, which had good-naturedly allowed itself to be crushed between their bodies up until this point, began to whine pitifully. Needless to say, it stayed.

By the time the third dog rolled into their lives, Dean was beginning to suspect that his life would never be the same and began to have prophetic visions of their bed, completely taken over by a variety of dogs of all shapes and sizes, all merrily snoring away, while he and Castiel slowly became resigned to sleeping in whatever tiny spaces the dogs generously left to them.

While Castiel could be blamed for both the second and the third dog, the fourth couldn’t truly be said to have been his fault.

Presently, Dean began to scowl at Charlie, who had been recovered from her universe healthy and largely happy, through the video chat feature of his phone.

“I heard you were taking in dogs. Like, strays and stuff?” She was saying. “I thought that maybe...”

“No. There are enough dogs in this household,” Dean said, possibly too loudly, as several of their dogs woke from their naps and lifted their ears to the sky, listening, perhaps, for the sound of his pride’s imminent downfall.

“But, Dean-”

“There is no ‘but Dean!’ No more dogs. That’s final.”

“There aren’t any no-kill shelters in the area. I just thought you’d like to, I don’t know, save an innocent life?” And then Charlie began to pout, and the dog on her lap perked up and damn if it wasn’t the cutest little thing he’d seen in quite some while.

“Fine, bring him over.”

“Her!” Charlie corrected brightly, cheeks rosy with the glow of victory. “I’m bringing her over now.”

And then the line went dead, and Dean was left staring at his own reflection on the screen. “Is this what I’ve been reduced to? A fairy freaking godmother for dogs?”

“There are worse things in life,” Castiel noted, smiling as he made his way towards Dean. “What’s his name?”

“Her,” Dean corrected, absently. “And I didn’t ask.”

“Hmm,” Castiel said, thoughtful. “I’m not quite an expert, but I think Duke, Pepper, and Mr. Fitz are all male.”

“So?” Dean asked, taking a slow sip of coffee.

“So,” Castiel said, grinning ear to ear. “Puppies.”

And that is the story of how Dean and Castiel ended up in the shower together, Dean after having spluttered hot coffee all over Castiel’s nice white shirt as well as his own, and Castiel, who decided to join him in the shower because the bed was rarely a viable option to consummate their love upon, due in large part to a prodigious number of dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duke – named by Dean
> 
> Pepper – named by Sam
> 
> Mr. Fitz – well obviously Cas named him


	2. Kittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean and Castiel acquire kittens and manage to talk through their feelings, in no particular order.

It turned out the dog’s name was Mirabel the III, which Dean thought was a rather pretentious name for a dog, but at least she’d come to them spayed.

Castiel – who Dean imagined had been envisioning oodles upon oodles of puppies, all of whom bore some resemblance either to Mirabel or to Mr. Fitz or Duke, or even Pepper, who was, as far as they knew, much too old and far too lazy to sire a litter – was ever so slightly heartbroken, but Dean managed to make it up to him, this time in the bathtub which they’d installed for the sole purpose of seeing how standing water mixed with sex.

In the aftermath, Castiel was glowing with a strange sort of sheen that seemed to Dean to be slightly brighter than post-coital bliss strictly required. (It turned out that sex and standing water actually made for a mediocre blowjob and a lot of spilled water on the floor, which Dean managed to navigate with his ninja-like skills. Castiel had not been so lucky, and had tripped and slipped and nearly fallen on several occasions as they dressed in their underthings and made their way to the bed, which two of the dogs were already napping upon.)

“It’s like… They make everything worthwhile,” Castiel was saying.

“Mhmm,” Dean murmured into Castiel’s chest. He was more interested in nuzzling closer than in taking offense to Castiel’s previous statement, but then Castiel continued and Dean grew stiffer and more rigid in his lover’s embrace moment by moment.

“It’s as if they make life worth living, you know? Just you and me and all these dogs. Maybe we’ll start a shelter. Castiel’s Haven for Runaway Dogs, Unwanted Cats, and Other Homeless Animal Types.” Dean made a face at the name, and tried to slow his pounding heart.

“I thought I was what made your life worth living,” he said, aiming for gruffness but falling far short, if only based on the way Castiel looked down at him and lifted his chin until he was staring at him with such intensity that Dean felt as though Castiel were peering into the very heart of the burning star that was his soul, unflinchingly.

“You are. How could you doubt that, Dean Winchester? You are the reason I breathe, the reason I love; the reason for my existence. I love these dogs, yes. Of course, I do. But I love the fact that we’re raising them together. I love the fact that it’s _our_ bed they’re hogging. The bed we share. The one I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are loved upon, if need be.”

Dean blushed, and had to look away. “But Cas-”

“No. I am so sorry that I hurt you with what I said earlier. But I need you to know that you are my family, first and foremost. You are my home. You’re everything, Dean. You’re the cake; the dogs are the icing.”

Dean managed a watery chuckle. “I thought I was pie,” he said.

“You can be both,” Castiel laughed, leaning down to kiss his lover.

As they pulled away, Dean gave Castiel a smile to rival the sun.

This was exactly how Sam found them, but the younger Winchester brother was not terribly offended by this relatively tame display of emotion, as he’d been exposed to more scandalous parts and pieces of his brother and his brother’s angel that he’d preferred to have gone without seeing in the past few weeks and months.

“Dean, I’ve got something for you.”

“Is it a case?” Dean asked, perking up.

Sam’s face lit up. “Sort of? I mean, I know you said you were taking a break and everything, but there are these kittens that were abandoned at a farmer’s front door a few towns over and-”

And that was as far as Sam got, because Dean promptly threw a pillow at him, then another.

“Dean,” Castiel chided. “Just think about it. All those small little kitten faces and their sweet little paws and their tiny mews.”

“I’m texting you the address now,” Sam said, managing to avoid being assaulted by their final pillow on his way out.

Dean sighed. Castiel was looking at him as if he’d hung the stars himself, and the dogs had woken up and were already wearing hopeful expressions at the thought of new brothers and sisters.

“Okay, I surrender,” he said. A long moment of silence followed, and Castiel rested his palm on Dean’s shoulder, allowing him the time to mull over his next thought. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” Castiel said, voice soft.

“I get to name them.”

“All of them?” Castiel sounded slightly horrified.

“You can name your favorite,” Dean offered, trying to sound more generous than he felt.

Castiel sighed. “Fine.”

And that is the story of how Dean and the angel Castiel acquired half a dozen mewing kittens, which would remain charming and cute and positively angelic until around 4 a.m. in the morning, at which point they turned into hungry, biting, mewling demons _howling_ for food.


	3. Proposals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel gets down on one knee.

Things went swimmingly for quite some time.

One day, while they were lying in bed snuggling, Castiel broached the topic of a backyard for the dogs.

“Do you mean… Are you suggesting we move?” The tightness in Dean’s chest quickly grew into a tsunami of panic. The Bunker had been his home, his first real home since he was four. Leaving it was simply unthinkable.

Castiel had always been highly attuned to Dean’s moods, and now was no different. “Dean, breathe,” he said, hand hovering over Dean’s upper arm, but Dean flinched away.

“No!” Dean said, a little too loudly. It scared some of the dogs, and woke up the kittens.

Cas sighed. “Fine,” he relented, and Dean could tell that he’d angered the other from the curt way the angel addressed him for the rest of the night, and how they retired to separate sides of the bed. The silence after the lights were turned out stretched like an abyss between them, broken only when Dean finally fell into a restless sleep.

***

Dean woke up to find Castiel gone the next morning, his side of the bed ice cold. A bolt of fear shot through him, and there was no one to remind him to breathe, so he just paced around their room for an interminable amount of time on the verge of hyperventilating.

In the end, it was Mr. Fitz who interrupted him by ambling into the room, a small envelope attached to his collar in such a way that Dean couldn’t quite tell if it had been intentional or if Mr. Fitz had just gotten himself into some sort of stray paperwork.

“Hey boy,” he greeted. “Let me see what you have there.”

Gently, he freed the envelope from the dog’s collar and rewarded Mr. Fitz for a job well done with a brief belly rub before opening the envelope, which contained coordinates not far from where he was, along with a crisp folded photograph dated to several months prior.

The photograph depicted a dilapidated old farmhouse, complete with what must have once been a barn, but was now merely a sagging roof supported by ivy-clad walls and boarded-up windows.

“Okay, Cas. I’ll bite,” he said, and dressed in a forest-green plaid shirt that brought out the verdant color of his eyes.

***

As Dean rolled up in the Impala, he cursed his phone’s GPS.

“Really?” He said, giving the device a despondent shake. “Come on, this can’t be the place,” he said, peering out at the house and adjacent barn. It looked nothing like the photo. The barn had a fresh coat of paint that looked like it might have been applied within the week, and none of the windows were boarded. Every white surface was gleaming in sunlight; the red was vivid and bright. The house itself looked small enough to be cozy, yet large enough to accommodate a good-sized family. A veranda wrapped around the two-story structure, and a wooden fence enclosed a large area of land.

Dean unfolded the photo he’d tucked into his pocket, comparing the photograph with the place itself. At first, he could see no similarities – but then his eye zeroed in on the scarecrow in the distance, which was still standing along the flat plane of the horizon, looking only slightly worse for wear from the winter prior.

“Oh,” Dean said, and then let out a long string of curses.

Of course, Castiel would have done this. It was just like him – thoughtful and selfless. And of course, Dean had been an utter ass about it.

He got out of the car. “Cas?” He called out.

A flock of misgivings and regrets took form in his chest, beating their savage wings against the cage of his ribs.

“Castiel!”

But none answered him. Sighing, Dean made his way to the door of the farmhouse, lifting the knocker and letting it fall.

The door flew open immediately, and Castiel stood there, wearing one of Dean’s blue shirts, looking like a wild thing recently tamed.

Dean made to speak, but Castiel shushed him with a kiss that ended much too quickly.

“Don’t,” Castiel said, voice breaking. Dean tried to get closer, but Castiel stopped him once more at the threshold. “Wait! I’ve been practicing for hours; I knew you’d come, I just didn’t know when, and when you came I said I’d be ready but I’m not ready and now you’re here and-”

“Cas!” Dean interrupted. “Breathe,” he said, a smile overtaking his features.

Castiel took a deep breath, but all the air fled from Dean’s own lungs as he watched the other fall to one knee, reaching with sure, steady fingers for the ring in his pocket.

Dean’s hand flew to his mouth, and Castiel took another deep breath and began his proposal.

“Dean Winchester,” he said, meeting the other’s eyes. “I didn’t build this home with my own hands. But the city was about to raze it, and I saved it, as you saved me. And I rebuilt it, like I rebuilt your soul when I pulled you from Hell. I needed you to see it. I did this – I did all of it – for the love of you. So, I’m asking you… Will you do me the honor of spending your life with me? Will you marry me?”

Dean tried to speak, he did, but nothing came out, so he nodded fiercely instead, reaching for Castiel as he did so. “Yes,” he finally managed to whisper. “Always. Yes,” he said, stronger this time.

And that is the story of how Castiel ended up being tackled by a certain Dean Winchester, who kissed him like the dawn kisses the morning sky, hands trying to roam everywhere all at once, heart overflowing with the tenderness of an old love that still felt brand new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have this vision in my mind of Castiel taking progress photos of the house and barn he renovated and giving them to Dean in an album as an anniversary present. (Shh, don't tell Dean.)


	4. Just Desserts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean and Castiel have accumulated a few too many animals, and decide they need a website. 
> 
> (And you're never going to believe what Dean named the kittens.)

News of the couple giving shelter to strays and other wayward creatures spread, and soon, they found themselves with rather more animals than they had expected.

“We need a website,” Castiel decided over dinner one night. They still hadn’t fully transplanted themselves from the Bunker, but their belongings were mostly moved in and they’d come to check on the house and prepare a meal using the fridge freshly stocked with fruits and vegetables from the summer’s harvest, courtesy of their kindly neighbors, who had welcomed the newly engaged couple with smiling eyes and, to Dean’s surprise and delight, freshly baked pies.

“For what?” Dean asked through a bite of hamburger.

“For Castiel’s Haven for Runaway Dogs, Unwanted Cats, and Other-”

Dean stopped him there. “We are not calling it that.”

Castiel began to pout. He was fully aware that Dean could rarely resist his pouty face, either in bed or elsewhere, but Dean remained unmoved.

“We need a better name,” he insisted. “A shorter one, for starters.”

They both thought for a moment.

“It should have your name,” Castiel declared, sounding rather convinced of himself.

“Wait, whose name? Why? What happened to Castiel’s Shelter for Homeless Animal Types?”

“It was Ca-” and here Castiel began to say his original idea for the name, but stopped himself after a beat. “It doesn’t matter. It should have your name. You were the one who took in Duke. And you named all of our kittens.”

Dean rolled his eyes. They had, of course, stuck by their original agreement to allow Castiel to name his favorite of the growing cats, but at the last moment Dean had blurted the name “Candy Cane.” Castiel had sighed, and accepted the fact that Muffin, Peaches, Clementine, Honey, and Cherry Pie needed a sibling with a name like Candy Cane instead of, oh, say, Tabitha or Katherine or Lady, or really, just about anything else that wasn’t even remotely sweet-related.

Castiel was still just a little bitter.

“Yes, and you’ll never let me forget it, will you?” Dean said.

“I mean it, Dean,” Castiel replied. “It should be the Winchester Shelter for Strays.”

Dean set his burger down. “You’re serious,” he observed.

“Of course, I am! You’re the light I live by. You’re the best man I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.” He gave Dean a lop-sided smile. “And, of course, I need a last name, now.”

“Well, darling,” Dean said with mirth, “you can always have mine.”

“So, that’s settled, then,” Castiel said.

“Yes. Except for one thing. You've got a little ketchup just there,” Dean said, grinning.

Castiel looked down at himself, frowning. “Where?”

“Just… Just there,” Dean said, approaching his lover. “Here, let me get it for you,” he said, and proceeded to kiss his angel senseless.

“There was no ketchup, was there?” Castiel asked once he’d caught his breath.

“Nope.” Dean smiled unapologetically. “But there can be chocolate sauce,” he said, sauntering over to the island where the fixings for dessert were waiting.

“That’s for dessert, Dean,” Castiel said, no small measure of exasperation in his voice.

Dean bit his lip and grabbed a spoonful of the chocolate sauce, moaning around his spoon and making sure to lick it clean. “That’s funny,” he said. “Because I was under the impression that you were dessert.”

And that is the story of how Dean and Castiel showed up at the Bunker several hours later, very sticky and covered with chocolate sauce and an assortment of other stains, after having had mind-blowing sex only to later remember that the shower hadn’t been connected to the water reservoir quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a dog with one of those names... Can you guess which?


	5. Websites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel admits that there is, indeed, such thing as too many dogs, Dean experiences mixed emotions about putting Mirabel up for adoption, and Sam gets the short end of the stick when it comes to sleeping arrangements and discovers that the ratio of dogs that can fit on any one bed is higher than he'd previously believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting this on the night the SPN finale is set to air because I know we can all use some cracky fluff right about now.

It turned out that Dean and Castiel’s computer skills were limited, to say the least. Sure, they could Google what the best and safest way to cook rhubarb was, something they probably should have done before Dean had gotten sick from it and required a few days of bed rest and babying despite Castiel assuring him the healing process was quite complete.

And of course, they could find porn – copious amounts of it, in fact, which Castiel insisted was ‘research’ into the field of human sexuality, an assessment Dean couldn’t quite find it in himself to disagree with, especially when it usually involved a happy ending for one or both of them.

But when it came to websites, particularly designing, maintaining, and operating one – well, they were more than a little lost.

That was where Sam came in.

“Let me get this straight,” Sam was saying. “You’re commissioning me to build you a website because you have too many dogs.” He grinned at Castiel. “What happened to ‘there’s no such thing as too many dogs, Sam. Such a number would be incalculably large.’ You have, what, six of them?”

“Seven,” Castiel corrected.

Sam held up seven fingers. “Incalculable, you say?”

“Will you help us or not?” Dean snapped.

Sam resisted a childish urge to stick out his tongue at Dean, and said, “Of course I’ll help you, Dean. You just had to ask.” And then he smiled again. “Incalculable.”

“Alright, we get it,” Castiel said. “I was wrong. I’ll admit it. But Sam, you have no idea how much attention and food seven dogs require, and more importantly, how much they shed. And also, how they can all fit on the bed is beyond me.”

Dean paused to glare at Castiel. “They only fit because you kicked me off.”

“We’re happily married,” Castiel ensured Sam, who raised an eyebrow at the couple.

“Engaged,” Dean amended.

“Well, it was about time,” Sam said, and got to work.

***

Several hours later, their website was up and running, and Sam was showing Castiel how to upload some of the photographs he’d taken of the dogs that they’d be putting up for adoption.

As the afternoon wore on into the evening, Castiel couldn’t help but notice Dean had been awfully quiet, asking only the most basic of questions about the operation of the website and offering polite, measured responses when he was asked about the positioning of a photo or the word choice of part of Mirabel’s adoption advertisement.

When Sam left to get them all beers, Castiel went to sit beside Dean, who was cradling not one but two dogs on his lap.

“Spill,” Cas said.

Dean blinked at him. “What?”

  
Castiel blinked back. “I was under the impression that the word ‘spill’ is used in these situations to indicate my willingness to listen, but I could be mistaken.”

This wrenched a smile out of Dean, but it was a brief, sad little parody of a smile, and was gone as quickly as it had come. “You know, I never thought I’d miss Mirabel. Or any of the dogs. But deciding which ones to put up for adoption… It’s rough.”

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s knee, prompting Dean to meet his gaze. “If you’re not ready for this, we can put it on hold.”

With a shake of his head, Dean replied, “It’s not that. I want to give these little guys a loving home. It’s just… I’m going to miss them.”

“Of course, you will. But they’ll always be with you,” Castiel replied, bringing his hand up and pressing it over Dean’s heart. “In here.”

Dean let out a little ghost of a laugh and wiped a stray tear away. “I even don’t know why I’m crying,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Castiel fixed his gaze on Dean, who could see that Castiel’s eyes shone with unshed tears of his own. “I do… It’s because you’re a good man, Dean. You love with all of your heart. I know you were raised to think that tears are weakness, but there is incredible strength to be found in them.”

They reached for one another at about the same time, fingers intertwining as they met in a tangle of limbs and lips.

It was in this state that Sam found them. He began to count in his head, humming a little louder with each passing set of 3. He got to twenty-two before he stopped and sighed. “Don’t you guys ever need to breathe?” He asked, setting the beers down on the table with a loud thud that caused both Dean and Castiel to startle.

“I’ve been told,” Castiel began as Sam took a swig of his beer, casting his gaze back at Dean, “that breathing is overrated.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow in askance.

Castiel answered by blowing him a kiss, which Dean mimed catching.

And that was the beginning of a very long evening during which Sam suffered through various public displays of affection between his brother and said brother’s angelic fiancé, and while Sam was happy for them, he wasn’t quite as ‘happy’ as Dean and Cas seemed to be, nor was he thrilled with the fact that the Bunker’s insulation was more than a little substandard and he was, in fact, rather put off by the fact that Dean and Castiel kicked all the dogs out of their room for some privacy, if only because that meant that he had to spend the night relegated to one corner of his bed while the rest was overtaken by a growing number of dogs all sleeping in one peaceful, snoring pile.

But it was worth it, in the end, if only for the pictures – both the ones he took of the dogpile on his bed, and the ones he took of Dean snuggled up to Castiel, head pillowed on the angel’s chest, which would make for excellent blackmail material in the weeks and months to come.


	6. Rains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rains come, and with them; mud, which rarely mixes well with dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dogs + Mud = Bad News is a well-known equation describing the motion of dogs through a muddy field, after which they will come inside and track primordial ooze all over your carpets and your furniture.

It was several more weeks before they fully made the transition to their new home.

Their days were mostly spent taking care of their various animals, from the dogs (minus Pepper, who Sam had taken a liking to and insisted stay with him) to the kittens, who were growing larger and more rambunctious by the hour.

Dean was forced to agree at one point that the dogs all looked much happier running around the yard with those fancy collars that kept them from straying too far off the property, tails wagging, ears flapping in the wind, chasing one another for most of the morning before retiring to snuggle with the kittens for their afternoon naps.

And then the rains came. The skies opened up, the clouds bringing pouring rain in their wake, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled low in the middle distance. The dogs all scrambled inside, tails tucked between their legs. The next few hours were spent building a progressively larger pillow fort using all of their chairs, most of their blankets, some pillows, a few sheets, and just a smattering of Grace.

“You know,” Castiel was saying as they settled into their little nest of sorts. “The dogs are going to have to go out eventually.”

“The rains will let up,” Dean assured him, pressing a kiss along the stubbled line of his jaw.

Castiel smiled at the gesture. “Yes, they will. It’s the mud I’m worried about.”

“Oh,” Dean said, frowning.

And that was the last moment of peace they had for quite some time. Mirabel began scratching at the door, begging entry into the great outdoors, where the deluge was just beginning to slow into a drizzle.

Soon, all the dogs were pacing, and Castiel sighed, went to the door, and watched in complete and utter horror as all six dogs went rushing out as one.

Mr. Fitz was the first to brave the damp ground, and once he found it to his liking, some of the other dogs, Duke included, rushed out into the yard, splashing in the puddles and skidding around the place, kicking up copious amounts of muddy water and damp earth.

Soon enough, all the dogs were rolling around in the wet, muddy mess that their yard had become. One last peal of thunder startled the dogs, who came rushing back in, much to Dean and Castiel’s dismay and much to the detriment of their furniture, the pillow fort, the floors, and the carpets.

It wasn’t until many loads of laundry, six baths, two showers, and a whole lot of scrubbing later that Dean and Castiel found themselves alone in their bed, which was, for once, free of dogs, who were all relegated to whining outside the door for their earlier behavior and for the simple fact that six wet dogs in one bedroom does not make for a pleasant nights’ sleep.

“G’night, Cas,” Dean murmured against his lover’s skin. Both of them were too worn out to do much else, but they shared a long, lazy kiss before settling back down into their respective pillows.

“Good night, Dean,” Castiel replied. His face was briefly illuminated by a stray beam of moonlight that filtered through the tree as it swayed in the wind, and Dean smiled. “I love you,” Castiel continued. “And I always will.”

Dean took a deep breath. For many years, he’d been unable to say those words, but they sprung to his lips with practiced ease. “I love you too, angel,” he stated, voice steely with conviction, yet his lips were gentle as he pressed one last kiss to Castiel’s temple before snuggling into his beloved and drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is exactly the sort of fluff I need to write after Thursday's episode. I am still ruined - both by the fact that the show has ended, and the way in which it was ended.


	7. Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas acquire a horse. Of course.

“You’re not seriously suggesting that we get a _horse_?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed. “No, I’m not,” he replied.

Dean let out a breath of air he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Castiel continued. “I already told Mrs. Randell that we’d take the mare. She was a broodmare, but she’s getting on in years.” Castiel fixed his gaze on Dean. “I couldn’t bear the thought of them putting her down just because she can’t have foals anymore.”

“They were going to put her down?” Dean asked, clearly horrified by the thought.

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed. “They simply couldn’t afford to feed her. Daisy. The horse’s name is Daisy. And she’s the sweetest thing, Dean, you’re going to fall in love with her when you see her.”

Dean gave him a lop-sided grin. “Is she anything like you?”

“Well, I’m not sure quite how I compare in terms of horses, but she is a very old soul, as am I, and I suppose, well, she has a tan coat. And so do I.” He chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if this horse is anything like you, I’m probably going to take one look at her and-” Dean paused, suddenly overcome with the memory of the night they’d met. He could feel the heat of the sparks as they fell, taste the adrenaline on his tongue as that night in the warehouse came rushing back to him. They’d lost so many things along the way, but at least they had still each other.

In one fluid motion, Castiel wrapped his arms and wings around Dean, cradling his lover with a gentle pressure and bringing firm hands to rest at his waist. “Shh,” he soothed Dean. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always going to be right here, by your side.”

“I know,” Dean whispered, voice trembling. “I love you,” he said, rejoicing at how easily the words sprung to his lips, and how their truth made his chest bloom with warmth.

“I love you too, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said. “Now, come on. Let’s go meet Daisy.”

“Wait, she’s here already?”

“In the barn,” Castiel confirmed.

***

The barn was not quite what Dean had been expecting. He’d been thinking of a barren, cavernously empty space, filled with a smattering of hay, and he was briefly distracted by everything he was seeing.

A heating unit in the corner would ensure their larger animals never got cold in the winters, even though said winters were mild, and a ventilation system sat beside it, ensuring they’d always have fresh air.

There was also a little loft area, and Dean could see at once that Castiel had made good use of the space, as the ladder led up to a seating area with a sturdy railing where they could bring a picnic, maybe, or just while the summer days away.

Towards the back, a well-lit line of stalls was stocked with what looked like toys, food, treats hay, and a spare salt lick for the horse.

“If and when we get more horses, we’ll have to empty out some of the stalls I’m using for storage right now, but you get the idea,” Castiel said, bringing Dean back to the present moment.

“Right,” he said, so far unconvinced as to the first horse.

Together, they approached the animal. Dean smiled when he saw her, and stilled when the animal looked at him warily. “Hey, Daisy,” he said, raising his hand as an offering. “Who’s a beautiful horsey?”

Daisy nickered softly at that, and came rushing towards him.

At first, Dean was sure the poor, frightened mare was going to barrel into him, but she slowed and came to a halt just in front of him, nuzzling him and presenting her neck for him to stroke.

“I told her you’re a good man,” Castiel said.

“You can… You can speak to horses?” Dean asked, slightly incredulous.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I can speak to all of creation, Dean. I’m an angel.”

“Oh,” Dean concluded, taking a moment to mull it over. “So, does that mean I’m not as good with animals as I think I am?” He laughed.

Castiel couldn’t help but grin. “Animals can be slow to trust humans. Trust must be earned, usually. You have to approach the animal slowly. Establish that you’re not a threat. Sometimes, it can take hours. Days, even. The taming of a wild thing is done with great patience and great love.”

“Kind of like the domestication of wayward angels,” Dean joked.

Castiel considered it for a moment. “Yes, it’s exactly like that. You loved me, and slowly, glacially, I warmed to humanity; to you. I can’t quite pinpoint when exactly I fell in love with you; it was just there one day, this presence between us, and it was like it had always been there. Like you rendered me whole.” He smiled.

Dean met his gaze, and they shared a long moment of silence, broken only by their breathing. “Cas,” Dean whispered. It was his turn to beckon the angel towards him for a hug. “You know that you’re everything to me, right?”

And he could feel Castiel’s soft smile against his collar bone, and that was answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you want to see your favorite domestic, farm, or wild animal, leave your suggestions in the comments!


	8. Families

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one of the dogs finds a new forever home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry, I have not forgotten this story - I have just been super busy. Please enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!

Castiel had been tracking visitors to their website, and was pleased to find that traffic was picking up, especially in the surrounding area. Slowly but surely, word made it around their town and several others about The Winchester Shelter for Strays.

It was inevitable, then, that the day would come when they had visitors. Castiel had decorated the house with fresh flowers – planted individually in wide-mouthed vases. He’d balked at the thought of killing a flower for its beauty, and he’d decided that he would single-handedly change humankind’s propensity for cut flowers. He’d given vases of planted flowers to their neighbors, and so far, it seemed like the idea was catching on.

“Everything looks beautiful, Cas,” Dean assured his lover, who was sit fretting over the positioning of the plate of snacks he’d prepared for their guest.

“Yes, but-” Dean gave Castiel a little pout, and Castiel stopped short. “Don’t give me that look, Dean Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. “I mean it. The house is sparkling. You’ve already told the dogs to be on their best behavior. Everything is perfect.” He reached out to adjust the collar of Castiel’s shirt, and grinned at his handiwork. “There. _Now_ everything’s perfect.”

They were caught in each other’s orbit, and the kiss seemed to be an inevitable conclusion of their proximity and the heat between them. They met in a flurry of lips and tongue, Castiel’s hands coming to rest on Dean’s waist and wandering lower, until the doorbell rang and they sprang apart.

“Coming,” Dean called, being the only one of them who could trust himself to speak. He gave Cas a roguish smile and went to open the door.

By the time their visitor had taken off her shoes, Castiel was quite a bit more composed. “Welcome to our home,” he said, coming to greet her.

“Thank you,” the woman said. “I’m Violet. I live two towns over but my partner and I are starting a family. We were thinking about adopting a dog before the baby comes.”

A rather pregnant lady appeared in their doorway, and Castiel went to her side. “You must be Violet’s partner,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Cas, and this is my fiancé, Dean Winchester.”

“Hey. The name’s Rebecca. Becca for short.” Her hand went to rest on her stomach. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom? The baby was kicking the whole way here.”

“Of course,” Dean said, and led her further into the house.

Violet turned to look at Castiel, who gave her a smile. “The one dog we have for adoption that I think might fit your family’s needs is Ace. He’s one of our youngest dogs, and I think he’s a better choice than Mirabel. She can be short tempered.” He frowned. “The only problem is, Ace has become attached to one of our kittens.”

“Oh? Which cat, if you don’t mind my asking? I saw them on your site and I was actually trying to convince Becca on the drive here to let me adopt one.”

Castiel hesitated. “Cherry Pie.”

Silence reigned between them for a long moment, broken only by Violet’s burst of laughter. “Whoever named her has a wicked sense of humor.”

“That was me,” Dean said, reappearing from his trip to the other end of the house.

Violet smiled at Dean, and then she caught sight of Ace, who had snuck into the kitchen while no one had been watching. “Oh! Is that him? Is that Ace?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “I thought I’d told him to stay out of the kitchen, but I guess someone didn’t listen,” he chided the dog, who was more of a mutt than a mix. He displayed some of the features of a retriever, but had the shape of a hound and pointy, fluffy ears as well as a waggity tail. A single black patch in the shape of a heart featured prominently on his rump.

“Ace,” Violet said, immediately making the connection between his spot and the reasoning behind his name. The dog turned to her, attentive. “Is he trained?”

Castiel grinned. “Try him.”

“Roll over,” Violet attempted. Ace let out a long, low whine, but rolled over onto his belly nevertheless. She knelt down to give him a belly rub, and when she rose, Ace rolled back over, standing up and wagging his tail. “Sit,” Violet commanded, and Ace sat. She nodded and smiled over at Cas. “It’ll do.”

“I see you’ve already chosen our new family member,” Becca said. Violet hastened to explain that they only had one dog for adoption that might meet their needs, but Becca waved her off. “Joking, joking,” she said, striding up to her partner and taking her hand. “What’s this one’s name?”

“Ace. He’s good with kids – he came from a family with three of them, but when the family moved to the city, the new landlords wouldn’t let them keep him.” Castiel’s face twisted into a grimace. “Ace was heartbroken, and for a while, he didn’t want anything to do with the other dogs, and he just keep thinking about his old family and-”

“Cas,” Dean said in warning.

“I assume,” Castiel hastened to add. “I mean, I can’t read his mind or anything,” he said, and Dean rolled his eyes at the obvious bluff. “I just presume that’s what he was thinking about, but in any case, once he met Cherry Pie, he was a new dog. I think he’s ready for his forever home now.”

“Awww,” Becca and Violet said in union.

“I can promise you,” Becca began, “that we wouldn’t do that to Ace. He’s been through enough. What do you say, Vi?”

Violet nodded. “I think he’s the one.”

Castiel met Violet’s eyes for a moment longer than was socially acceptable, and then he did the same to Becca. “He’s yours,” he said.

“Wait, really? That easy?” Becca laughed.

“Well, if there were children in the house, or other pets, we’d recommend a home visit. But that won’t be necessary in this case,” Castiel explained. “And you’re good people. I can tell.”

Dean coughed into his fist, and everyone turned to him. “Ace does come with a catch, though.”

“Yes, Cherry Pie,” Violet confirmed. “Your partner was telling me all about their bond.”

Blushing at the term, Dean suppressed a smile and said, “And you’re cool with that?”

“I guess we’re getting a kitten anyway,” Becca laughed. “You little minx,” she chided Violet, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The next few minutes were spent filling out paperwork and packing up Ace’s toys and other assorted belongings, as well as bundling Cherry Pie into a little blanket and handing her over to Becca, who cradled the kitten and cooed at her until Violet came over and demanded to hold the growing cat.

And then it came to say goodbye. Dean began to tear up, and wiped angrily at his eyes. “I was going to be cool,” he whispered to Cas, despondent.

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s elbow, and led him over to Ace’s crate, when the dog was sitting placidly, no doubt awaiting his new life with equal parts excitement and trepidation. “It’s okay, Dean,” he said, wishing he could offer more than platitudes. “Go say goodbye.”

Kneeling before Ace, Dean put his hand to the bars and laughed when Ace shot up and placed his paw against his hand.

“Love you, buddy,” Dean whispered.

With a little whine, Ace settled back down.

Castiel came up to Dean, and placed an arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he repeated.

Before long, Violet, Becca, Ace, and Cherry Pie were saying their last goodbyes, walking out the door, and driving away.

The moment the car was out of sight, Dean burst into tears and buried himself in his angel’s arms. “I miss them,” he admitted.

“I know. But Ace told me that he was happy with where he was going, and he promised me he’d take good care of his new baby brother and he also said to me that he’d never forget either of us, for our kindness, and for our strength.”

Dean’s tears slowed to a trickle. “It’s a boy,” he sniffed, blinking back tears. “I knew you’d be able to tell.” He gave Cas a watery smile. “I know we did the right thing today. Some kid will grow up with a wonderful dog because of us. It’s just… Hard. This place feels emptier without him.”

“I know,” Castiel answered him. “But I promise you, Duke and Mr. Fitz aren’t going anywhere, and we still have Mirabel for the moment, and Bear too.” He whistled, and said dogs came running.

Dean knelt down and surrendered to their kisses. The musical sound of Castiel’s laughter rang out, and soon enough, Clementine wandered in, meowing for food, her sisters and brothers in tow.

Life would be different without Ace, but there still wouldn’t be a dull moment even without him. That much was certain.


	9. Gestures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean isn't exactly pleased to learn of another horse five (and a half) minutes before she is due to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super sorry it took me so long to get out this chapter! I am finishing my penultimate semester of uni, and also there were so many new and shiny ideas that presented themselves to me at the most inopportune times, but hey when inspiration knocks one should answer. Right?

“Another horse?” Dean groaned. It wasn’t so much the prospect of another horse – though that itself was daunting in itself – it was the fact that he’d been hoping to corner Castiel for some shower sex, and there was no way a conversation about another horse fit into that equation. Unless… “Fine. Let’s get another horse,” he agreed.

“That easily?” Castiel laughed, raising one eyebrow at Dean.

Dean sauntered up to Castiel, spare horse mostly forgotten about. “Yes, just like magic,” he replied.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Dean allowed, brushing the back of his hand against Castiel’s stubble.

Castiel took that moment to school his face into a stoic expression. “I might have forgotten one detail.”

Again, Dean groaned. “Yes?”

“Well,” Castiel said, and an interminable pause later managed to eke out, “She’s due to arrive in…” At this point, Castiel checked his watch. He’d taken to wearing one of those old wind-up ones, because Dean insisted they were superior to the digital ones. “Five and a half minutes.”

“Five and a half?” Dean asked, voice rising. “Five and a half!”

“Dean-” Cas looked more placating than remorseful.

Dean closed his eyes and counted to five and a half before continuing. “Cas… You can’t spring these things on me anymore. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together. No more lies, no more secrets, no more surprises – well, I say no surprises. I mean of the animal kind. The other kind are, well…” he said, chuckling a bit and allowing his mind to wander for a moment back to his earlier plans. “I mean it, though,” he added, humor fading from his voice. “Please.”

Castiel’s eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Dean gave him a half-smile, which brightened a bit when Castiel reached a hand out to him.

“Together,” Cas said.

“Together,” Dean agreed.

***

The creature was in poor shape.

“We rescued her and a few other horses from an abandoned farm about a dozen miles down the road,” the sheriff was explaining.

“Why would anyone abandon their farm?” Castiel wanted to know.

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Some folks ‘round here would rather live in the city, where the people talk fast and think slow. I reckon that the owners up and left. Happens too often.”

Cas nodded his understanding. “Are there other horses in need of a home?” Then he remembered his earlier conversation with Dean when the other began to glare at him. “I mean, I’d need to discuss it with my partner first but-”

The sheriff chuckled at the looks on their faces. “Let me stop you there. This is the last animal to be rehabilitated. Most shelters in the area don’t take horses, and this poor mare was in no condition to ride out west another fifty miles or so. You’re doing this animal a great service, Mister…”

“Winchester,” Castiel supplied.

“Well, Mr. Winchester. The horse is all yours.”

Together, the three of them made quick work of unloading the horse. The creature was terribly frightened, but at Castiel’s gentle insistence, she allowed herself to be led out of the horse carrier that had transported her there.

A short while later, the sheriff was tipping his hat at them, and pulling away in his cruiser, leaving Dean holding the reigns of their new horse, who was beginning to shift from side to side as if she were in pain.

“Well?” Dean asked, managing to be only a little afraid of the thousand-pound animal that looked like she was on the verge of bolting away from him. “What’s her name?”

Castiel frowned at them, tilting his head at the horse. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It seems that no one ever bothered to name her.” He kicked at the gravel beneath his feet, his anger at whoever had mistreated their new horse a palpable presence between them. “You can do the honors, if you’d like.”

“We’re going with flower names, right?” Dean asked, not waiting for Castiel to answer before continuing. “Lily. Her name is going to be Lily.”

Castiel smiled and began to approach the horse. “Keep an eye out,” he bid Dean.

“You’re going to heal her _now_?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Dean. And besides, I can’t bear to see her in pain for another instant.”

So Dean did as he was told, and watched with his back to Castiel and the horse for any coming traffic. It seemed the road stretched out into eternity, winding first towards them, then away, crisscrossing their town and their state and their land. It was empty, now, of cars, tractors, and people, and Dean felt, for a moment, like he was utterly alone. It wasn’t loneliness, per se, just a slowly fading feeling of remoteness and distance.

Then he felt something warm and wet settle upon his shoulder, and spun around, heartbeat quickening and breathing coming fast for a moment before he realized it was just Lily.

“She scared me half to death,” he complained. He made a full circle around the latest addition to their family, and smiled. “She looks a hell of a lot better, though; I’ll give you that.”

Castiel smiled at Dean, proud of their good work. “I have a confession to make,” he said after a long moment, smile falling off his face.

“Oh no; not again,” Dean replied, frowning in anticipation of whatever new and strange thing Castiel had done. “Alright, let’s get it over with. Just tell me.”

What followed next was a rush of words and phrases that tumbled out of Castiel all at once, and almost, but not quite, in the right order. He looked at Dean hopefully.

“Cas,” Dean said, approaching his lover. “You’re going to have to slow down. Take a deep breath,” he suggested.

Castiel complied, and after a moment of holding it, he said, much slower this time, “I wanted another horse for a reason, Dean. I’ve actually been looking around for one. I… I wanted us to go riding. Together. Summer’s coming up so we won’t be able to ride in the heat of the day, but I just pictured us riding out at dawn, just the two of us.” He gave Dean that unbearably hopeful look, and Dean didn’t have time to compose himself before Castiel was taking his expression of complete and utter shock as a rejection. “I’m sorry, Dean. I should have told you.”

“No!” Dean said, half-shouting in the rush to correct his partner. “I mean, no. Cas… This is the good kind of surprise. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this, and I mean, hey, one of us has to be the romantic, right?” He smiled, and closed the distance between them until they were standing in the same space, breathing the same air. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Grinning, Cas asked, “What’s stopping you?”

“Just one thing,” Dean said, and took Castiel’s face in his hands. “I just need you to know that I love you.” He leaned closer. “So much,” he added, and then he could no longer resist the magnetic pull between them, and they were kissing, slow and sweet and full of everything they wished to convey to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One-word spoiler for the next chapter: POSSUMS!


	10. Possums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean ends up with a box full of orphaned baby possums, and Castiel is the only one thinking rationally about the ratio of square footage in their home to the number of possums that can reasonably fit in one place.

The possums, despite everything, had been Dean’s doing.

He’d been riding back home from the Bunker, where he and Sam had shared dinner and a beer, as was their new Friday-night custom, when his headlights had illuminated a bit of roadkill that looked rather fresh. In the fading light of dusk, he could just barely make out movement.

“Fuck,” he cursed, knowing he’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t get out and check on the poor creature.

And that was how Dean Winchester ended up with a box of dirty, smelly baby opossums, mewling helplessly and giving him the occasional growl.

Castiel let out a helpless squeak of his own upon seeing them, then narrowed his eyes at Dean. “I thought he had a deal,” he said, crossing his arms only half in jest.

Dean explained that he’d found their mother, fatally struck by a car on the side of the road, and the babies, still clinging to her.

The story softened Castiel’s heart, which, in truth, was a feat that didn’t take much to accomplish. “Bring them inside. I’ll put the dogs in another room until they’re ready to be introduced.”

***

The possums were cute.

They were so adorable that it almost made the days and weeks that followed worth it.

Nothing would convince Dean that it had been pleasant to be roused every four hours by miserable, hungry possums who thought their tiny little worlds were ending because they hadn’t been fed recently enough, but there had been an odd sense of solidarity between him and Cas.

Castiel had taken to sleeping, at first for Dean’s sake, and then because he found he actually enjoyed a few hours spent encased in the luxury of flannel sheets and warm blankets and tangled limbs and sleeping dogs.

It fell to Dean to do the first feeding of the night, because it turned out that Castiel was a heavy sleeper, a fact that half-pleased and half-frustrated Dean, if only because it meant that even though his angel felt safe enough to make sleepy gestures in the direction of the possums without fully waking, Dean was still the one who had to deal with the creatures.

He didn’t have Castiel’s knack with animals. Truth be told, he was fairly good with dogs and cats and could make most domestic animals come to him with a simple gesture; however, he was out of his depth when it came to possums and other wild animals, and it didn’t help that he couldn’t communicate with them as fluently as Castiel.

It was a comfort to know that after they had been fed and stopped fussing, he could go back to bed for several glorious hours, and Castiel would take care of the next feeding.

***

Their time in possum paradise lasted only so long. Dean was covered in them when Castiel broached the subject.

“You do realize we are going to have to return them to the wild soon, right?”

Dean went very still, and then scooped up the possum that was currently nibbling on the hem of his shirt. “We’re keeping Heather,” he said, in a voice that reminded Castiel that he was dealing with someone who would likely move Heaven and Hell both just to keep the possum he was currently holding close to him.

“I expected as much,” Castiel said, and moved closer to Dean, who was holding Heather like a shield. “You two have a special bond. Anyone can see that.”

Dean turned his face away from Castiel so the other wouldn’t see his eyes fill with tears.

“Dean, we’re not releasing them today. Or this week. Not until they and you are ready.”

“Right,” Dean said, not trusting himself to say anything else, lest his voice break and he follow it into the dark abyss of the empty home he was imagining in his head, devoid of possums and dogs and kittens and Castiel.

“Look at me,” Castiel said softly, and smiled when Dean obliged. “It’s okay to cry. I know you didn’t expect to fall in love with these little guys.”

Dean nodded, and reached for Castiel, who hugged him carefully enough to avoid squishing Heather between them.

Some of the possums decided that Castiel would make for better climbing, but he didn’t mind.

It wasn’t until one of the possums gave Castiel a love bite that they sprung apart, Castiel nursing his ring finger, which the possum had seen fit to nibble upon.

“That’s possums for you,” Dean said. “You know what they say… Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

Cas contemplated the saying for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s what ‘they’ say about possums, Dean.”

But Dean just scooped up as many of the creatures as he could carry, and left with a victorious look over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possums are just about my favorite animal. Just in case any of you were wondering. 
> 
> Reindeer are my absolute favorite, but one finding its way to Middle-of-Nowhere Kansas is improbable at best.


	11. Sunrises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean and Cas wake up way too early to go riding at dawn.

The sun was just a glimmer on the horizon when Dean was roused by an overly-eager, too-awake Castiel.

“You better have brought me coffee,” Dean said, sticking one hand out of the cocoon of blankets and dogs he was currently buried under.

He made grabby hands for the coffee, but Castiel sighed and said, “Sit up first. You’re going to spill it otherwise. Remember last time?”

The memory of last time – when Castiel had brought Dean breakfast in bed in a gesture that didn’t quite go as planned and ended up in not one, not two, but three separate loads of laundry being done – the whites with bleach, the blankets and their rug without – was enough to rouse Dean to near wakefulness.

He sat up, and once again made a desperate gesture for his coffee. “What time is it?” He asked blearily.

“Well, once you get dressed and finish your coffee and attend to anything else you might wish to do, it’ll be six.”

Dean nodded, then took a sip of coffee and reconsidered. “You know,” he began, and was about to go into a tirade about how when people asked what time it was, they usually wanted to know what time it was that moment, not at some indeterminate time in the future, but then he saw the look on Castiel’s face – all soft lines full of hope and anticipation, face haloed by the soft light of the lamp behind him – and couldn’t find the will to continue.

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asked, so earnest it sent a pang through Dean’s chest.

“You know I love you, right?” Dean said instead, smiling up at his lover.

“You only love me because I gave you coffee,” Cas joked.

“That’s only half of it,” Dean said, grinning.

Castiel mimicked surprise. “Half, huh?” And then he burst out laughing, and so did Dean, which made the coffee spill anyway, but it wasn’t really enough to make a mess and Castiel had come prepared with a towel, which he promptly pressed to the soon-to-be stain.

“I love you, too,” Castiel said after a moment of companionable silence. “Meet me in the stable.”

***

After stumbling about half-awake for a few moments, Dean managed to dress himself in his most comfortable jeans and a plaid shirt – bright red a stark contrast against the dark blue of his jeans and undershirt, and the paleness of his skin, which the summer sun had yet to deepen into a tanner, more golden color.

Dean brushed his teeth, slicked back his hair, and grabbed two wide-rimmed cowboy hats from one of their many closets.

Muffin gave him a pitiful meow from under the table when he set his coffee cup down, and he almost yielded to her – but he knew her sisters and brothers would come running if they heard the sound of a can opening or the subtle crinkle of a bag of treats, and he’d kept Cas waiting long enough.

He emerged into the dawn to find his lover sitting astride Lily, holding both her reigns and Daisy’s.

The sight took his breath away – Castiel, angel of the Lord; his personal savior, sitting atop a mighty horse, dawn rendering him softer, the angles and lines of his body seeming smoother, now, in the golden half-light.

“Here,” he said, handing Cas both hats as he strode up to Daisy and swung himself onto her saddle.

“What are these for?” Castiel asked, puzzled as he turned the hats in his hands.

Dean smiled at the one who had come to own his heart. “The sun is going to rising soon.” It was a half-truth.

“Yes, but it won’t be bright enough to bother us for hours.”

Dean gave a little half-shrug. “If we’re going to ride out at dawn,” he said, “we’re going to do it right.” With that, he motioned for his hat. Castiel obliged with a smile on his face. “There,” he said as he adjusted the cowboy hat until it sat perfectly atop his head.

“Handsome,” Castiel said, and then he made a point of whistling.

Dean shook his head, laughing. “Did you just wolf-whistle me?”

“I believe I did,” Castiel said, not the slightest hint of remorse in his voice. “There’s no one for miles,” he mused. “I could do whatever I like.” He paused. “I’ll race you the barn. There’s a trace of a trail, there, where the grass is worn shorter than the rest of the meadow.”

And then he took off, maneuvering his steed in the opposite direction and taking off at a clip.

Dean urged Daisy into a canter, and swung her around to follow. “Wait for me,” he called, laughing.

And so it went – Dean following in close pursuit, Castiel stealing glances behind him. At some point, Dean had to switch the reigns to one hand to avoid losing his hat.

When they slowed to a halt, the two mares breathing fast under them, they were laughing and breathless.

Dean whooped, just because he could, and Castiel followed suit, if only because he had rarely seen Dean this happy. They continued calling up at the sky until a flock of birds could be sighted far overhead, at which point they both quieted in reverence for the sight. In the distance, the call of a morning dove could be heard, but other than that, the sound of their breathing was the only noise for miles. There was no wind to speak of, and the sun had now completed its daily conquest of the horizon and was a full, shimmering globe just above the place where land met sky.

“I love you,” Dean said softly after a long moment of quiet. It didn’t seem right to break the silence with any other words.

“I love you, too,” Castiel assured him, smiling and reaching out for Dean.

Dean took his hand, and together, they rode off into the dawn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of feels like a good place to leave off, for the moment at least. I may or may not have always wanted Supernatural to end with Dean and Cas riding off into the sunset in the Impala. 
> 
> I loved writing this story and may come back to it at some point in the future, but inspiration has led me elsewhere. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on and supported this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated~


End file.
